


Pizza

by Shatterpath, theillogicalthinker



Series: Ordinary People [6]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Gen, Missing Scene, Ordinary People, POV Second Person, everyone loves the Danvers sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 12:45:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10854279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theillogicalthinker/pseuds/theillogicalthinker
Summary: There's worse ways to learn a new city than getting all the goss and speculation about a couple of favorite customers at your new job.





	Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so my pal, theillogicalthinker, sent me a link to this hilarious gifset. As I'm no longer watching the show, Tumblr is my only means of keeping up, and I was instantly inspired by not just the gifs, but the hilarious block of comment-fic that came with them.  
> The first draft took me several hours over the course of a day. Then I handed it over to Illogical and she gave it some attitude! Oh sure, it might have been complete when I handed it over, but you my friend, personalized it. 
> 
> Additional shoutouts to SinginPrincess and RainbowRiddler for helping me out with job speculation ideas!
> 
>  
> 
> Now, I didn't strictly stick to the original prompt, but I kept to the spirit of it!
> 
> http://shatterpath.tumblr.com/post/160437429403/dealanexmachina-the-delivery-dude-is
> 
> #THE DELIVERY DUDE IS SMILING#he is their regular delivery dude#this is not a surprise for this poor guy we'll call him Jessy#Jessy loves the Danvers (actually all the delivery people love the Danvers because they are unfailingly polite even when it's very clear#they are ordering Bad Day Pizza or I Just Got Dumped Pizza#and they always always tip well)#Jessy (yes with a y) and some of the others like to keep tabs and a running pool on Why The Danvers Ordered Pizza This Time#Jessy's a little sad it was 'Alex tried to cook' because he didn't put money on that this time#basically what im saying is i want the entire story of the Danvers sisters in National City through the eyes of their pizza delivery

You have to admit, National City is just about what you'd expected moving to a big American city. You're from Melbourne, it's one of the biggest cities in Australia and it gets pretty strange there at times but you've become pretty desensitized after so long, but there is a particular-- how do they say it-- excessiveness to the Americans. Particularly on their home turf.

The soccer scholarship had been a welcome surprise, if not a little out of the blue, (you'd basically given up hope, having put in so many applications you don't even remember half of the places you'd looked at), leaving you to pack up enough of your life to survive far, far from home and uproot yourself to go on an extended adventure. But National City is no affordable place to live and even being a tight ass, it's still hurting your back pocket, so in time-honored tradition, you get yourself a job. 

Oh sure, maybe pizza delivery isn't the smartest thing to do, you'd only been driving for a few months before up and leaving Australia but you've gotten much better at driving on the wrong side of the road. Little things like where the hell you were going can be solved with modern technology, (thank you google maps.) Hopefully…

Your first day is full of the sorts of chaos you'd expect, but eventually you're shown the ropes by a lanky guy with square features and the sort of mouth that smiles a lot. He was pretty straight forward about the whole thing, unfazed by your being small, sturdy and female, and doesn't pull his firm handshake of greeting. So Jessy-with-a-y walks you through the basics of the job, ending at a miniature printer that chatters on cue. Grinning, he waits a few moments before ripping off the receipt and handing it over.

"The pizza gods have smiled on you, new kid. You get our best regulars, so saddle up! Hey Sammi! We got the Danvers! What's the betting standings?"

At a preparation station, a compact blonde leans back to glance at a clipboard nearby before shouting back over the racket. "Three on 'the asshole boyfriend', two on 'burned dinner', 'been dumped' is empty this week, you know Harold's and I'm sticking to my usual 'death glare'."

"Come on, Sam, you can't bet on 'death glare'!" One of the others yell as they work. "It's too vague!"

"Only 'cause you can't drive and haven't seen it!"

To the melody of boisterous laughter, a pair of large pizzas thump down onto the delivery counter, marked with dockets that match the delivery receipt in your hand and you grab the hot cardboard to follow Jessy into the evening warmth. The comparative quiet of the busy city is a pleasant change after the cacophony indoors, but it sure doesn't smell as nice.

"We have a betting pool," Jessy explains as you manage to get the passenger door open to be faced with a weird contraption made of plywood that takes up the front seat. He grabs the pizza boxes from your hands and lifts the wooden lid to drop the food in. Guess you'll be sitting in the back then. "Y'know, for why they're ordering."

Your right foot barely clears the ground before the car lunges forward, Jessy's hand negligent on the wheel. You fasten your seatbelt out of habit which is probably wise considering how Jessy is driving.

"And there's some little side speculations about what they do for a living, because why the hell not, right? I mean, we're not cheap, and they order from us like twice a week and I run into other guys delivering and-- Hey! Watch it!"

Surging out of the alley with barely a glance, Jessy casually yells at another car you're not sure how he avoided and becomes just one more insane California driver. You honestly don't understand the road rage Americans seem prone to and say a thankful prayer that Victoria in retrospect was not that bad. From somewhere, Jessy has pulled out an e-cigarette and continues to casually chatter while sweet-smelling smoke drifts around and out the half-open windows.

"We've been delivering to them for years. Mario looooooooooves them like family, it's hilarious. Alex used to have a loft around the corner and would order at all sorts of weird hours. It was a rarity that Kara would be there, but I remembered. Hey, what can I say, I was seventeen. Believe me, I noticed! Dunno what the hell Alex was studying but there were always stacks of textbooks that looked like you could build with the damn things and she always looked strung out like she was livin' on partying and adrenaline. And suddenly, the whole loft's redecorated and it's been Kara's ever since. Rambled at me when I asked about how jazzed she was to take the place over from her sister. S'actaully how I found out they were sisters. Alex moved out nearly to Riverside, which is like three miles outside of where we deliver, but Mario loves 'em, so we deliver anyway."

He looks thoughtful while weaving in and out of traffic like a madman. Despite the lingering sense of terror, you're curious, because the guy's got that laidback vibe about him that just draws others in. So you lean forward as best you can to loop your arms around the front seat's headrest and actually get in a word in edgewise. "So what makes these Danvers so interesting?"

That grin flashes again. "Besides being hot and eating like linemen? I kid. They're just nice. I know it sounds stupid, but that sticks with you in this biz."

Despite the constant sense of being separated by a supposedly common language, that part you absolutely get.

"Kara's a plucky little thing with some sorta everyman's job who gotta spend some serious time at the gym. Trust me, when you see those arms, you'll know what I mean. Me? My money's on kindergarten teacher. And Alex is even harder to figure out. I mean, she's hot enough to be a model, but she's got a mean glare on her, so is she a cop or maybe ex-military? Then again, it's Jake that speculates the most and he's a man-whore who's been bowling zeros since twenty-fourteen. Personally, I'm thinkin' lavender brigade, what with the flannels and the badass wheels and there's been a new girl around who I'm not sure is family or just has that 'don't fuck with me' attitude… hey, maybe she's a musician. That would explain the shoulders on her and I'm sure I've heard singing a few times."

The wry look he fires over his shoulder makes you laugh quietly, but you really wish he'd pay attention to where he was going.

"Weird Harold insists on superhero, but seriously, no one listens to Harold."

You have to chuckle along, because you met Harold earlier and yeah, he's a bit odd.

"Isaac told us that once that Kara startled the hell out of him by yelling out that window at him to wait and somehow got down four stories of stairs in impossible time and tripped, nearly smacking into his car and somehow pulled up in some Olympic dance move he still can't explain."

"What'd she want?"

"Oh, she forgot the tip. Seriously, best customers ever."

Again, his easy grin fades, this time to a pensive expression.

"But lately, she's had this total douchebag underfoot and I can't figure it out. The dick forgot to pay me, not once, but twice! Slammed the door right in my face and Kara had to take care of it, looking sheepish enough that you'd think I'd pantsed her. Tried explaining some lame thing about 'he's new to town'. Yeah, whatever. My sister had an ex like that and all that's missing is the bruises. He still pays with her card." Jessy seems genuinely upset for this stranger he does nothing more than bring hot meals to. Interesting. Visibly shrugging it off, he blows out smoke and vapor, muttering, "whatever. Not my circus, not my monkeys."

You're not sure who he's trying to convince.

"Aaaaaanyway, it's way more fun when it's both sisters, which doesn't happen as much as it used to."

The sudden quiet in the car is a bit jarring, so you toss in your two cents. "This Alex is totally a contract killer, obviously," you counter sarcastically and chuckle as Jessy greases you off. "They can't be too sus, right?"

His laughing carries you both for a couple miles.

"No, too clumsy. I mean, Laura thinks Alex is some sort of dance instructor and Sammi insists she's a stunt double at one of the studios, but Mo nearly dropped their dinner a few months ago when something smacked into the door hard enough to rattle it, and Alex was rubbing her face when she opened up and her card was on the floor."

Despite the extra three miles Jessy mentioned, you make good time via a maze of shortcuts you can't find in yourself to remember later. The pink line on your map app adapts along and you have no damn clue where you are or where you've been, but somehow, you've arrived at the little finish line flag and Jessy is grabbing the pizzas from the insulated box and leaping out of the car. You scramble to catch up, slipping sideways through the closing elevator doors in the nearby lobby.

"So where you placin' your bet?"

With the faceplant into the door being the last story on your mind, you shrug and take a wild stab. "Burned dinner."

"Sold!"

With a bounce in his step, Jessy's out of the elevator to knock with easy familiarity against one of the doors that line the hallway. The door opens and there's a pretty blonde in glasses wearing a blue Oxford and a jumper so ugly its almost cute, she reminds you of those girls you know who were semi Instagram famous for their sense of fashion and posting about food. Her smile is relieved and maybe a little sheepish, which is probably due to the lanky babe in the nearby kitchen, waving a dishtowel around like a maniac. The electronic squeal of an outraged alarm device and the reek of burned food lets you know you've just won your first bet at your new job.

Jessy only chuckles and hands over the food to the blonde, who says a quiet, "thank you," before firing the brunette an exasperated and affectionate look. It clearly isn't a delivery to linger over and the door is closing even as Jessy moves away. 

You both contain your laughter until the elevator doors close.


End file.
